


Don't it make it that much better, To find a cigarette that burns forever

by steviekat



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Bastards in the closest to love they'll feel, Elias vapes change my mind, Established Relationship, Humor and self meditation, Implied Sexual Content, Light Bondage, M/M, On our 9th divorce and counting, Power Play as Forplay, Smoking, Softer than they deserve, Spoilers mag160, The Lonely is where we send unwanted social interactions, They enjoy being chaotic together, This headcanon grew beyond my control
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-07
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:28:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23051704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steviekat/pseuds/steviekat
Summary: Peter blew out a curling stream of tobacco scented smoke, quiet and meditative. It wasn't common to notice Elias deny himself something he wanted. Not that he liked to admit noticing anything about his sometimes husband, but they were past pretending they didn't feel...something...for each other, so. He noticed.No, for such a proud man to deny himself this he must be truly embarrassed of the craving. And Peter, ever or never doting of his little hermit crab, would just have to find the most mutually enjoyable way to give it to him.
Relationships: Elias Bouchard/Peter Lukas
Comments: 19
Kudos: 103





	Don't it make it that much better, To find a cigarette that burns forever

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bazemayonnaise](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bazemayonnaise/gifts).



> Tagged as Mature to be safe but no actually written sex. Everything is consensual, they're just both the worst and enjoy that about each other. Hand waves the timeline to fit my headcanons

“‘-he _Sees_ you. He _Knows._ ’ It’s really helped get them in the festive spirit, just posters wall to wall-”

Elias has long perfected modulating his tone of voice to pry Peter's attention back when he finally, blissfully, zones out. He himself is strong, mind, but he would put money on Elias being chosen for the fact his voice has that ever so slightly nasal quality Peter can never fully block out. Ha, maybe he should put money on it, Elias was an endearingly awful gambler and always showed his hand soon enough. Something about the man had to be endearing.

"-little eyes as flames on the menorah, we are an all inclusive institute after all and -"

He'd almost had it there, began to lose himself in the fog but it's as though Elias can tell the second Peter's thoughts have finally drifted. With anyone else that would be a given, but with Peter's own allegiance there isn’t the gifted certainty of freshly plucked knowledge. But even without, so many years together, and wonderfully apart, can do that to a couple.

"-and it's always so wonderful to have you here for these little catch ups Peter." Elias finally finished, and deliberately placed his hand over Peter's own, forcing and holding his attention and a moment of excruciating eye contact. Uhg, the full offensive. Elias' eyes always lit up with even more unholy glee when he stole that concession.

"Mmmhyes always a delight to visit you at work and hear about these _incredibly_ important tasks you keep yourself busy with." Peter replied, wrenching his gaze back to the comfortingly impersonal walls.

"I wouldn’t spend the kindly donated Lukas money on anything less. Come now, your turn to tell me all about what you've been up to recently. Be sure to spare me no little detail Peter, you know how much I care about what you're up to in our time apart. Don’t go depriving me of a single moment." He said with an artificially forlorn pout. 

Peter found the energy to smirk at that. He may be dressing it up as a bitter spouse dressing up as an attentive and interested one, but they both knew it truly did drive Elias to some amount of distraction not being able to See Peter when they were apart. Peter let himself feed off that enjoyment for a moment, and turned his palm over to hold Elias' and devote some of his energy to their game.

"Well my little shard of sea glass -"

"Oh! One moment, Melanie is about to take a smoke break, let's continue this outside." Elias interjected, pulling away and grinning that sharks grin he could warp any face into possessing. He stood quickly and started ushering Peter up and into his coat.

"I can’t wait to know if she'll be able to stand smoking with us standing there while she’s unable to kill me, or if she’d rather go without the nicotine and leave. And I'm sure there's few things so lonely as being forced to stand in a confined space with the person you hate, locked out of conversation, so there's that for you. Darling."

"Warms this old sailors heart to know you think of me so. Darling." Peter said, and obligingly helped Elias into his own coat and followed him down the twisting corridors of the institute. And if those corridors quickly emptied and quieted as he passed through them Elias didn't comment on it.

He was right of course, as his sometimes husband unfortunately so often was. It wasn't good for the man to be correct so much of the time, and that of course was where their little bets came in. Keeping it spiced, as Peter is sure he's heard the kids say. Melanie, the girl Elias was currently enjoying antagonising with his continued existence so much, and god if Peter could remember her name then Elias' little 'updates' had truly burrowed their way into his mind, as good as hissed like a cat dropped in a bathtub and tried to crowd herself into the corner of the smoking area when they arrived. The fear and hatred of being alone with them was almost as good as the fear of being truly Alone. Elias had his benign little smile on as he set them up in an opposite corner, clearly enjoying Watching her discomfort and anger as she smoked furiously from one of those little devices like that was what he was paying her for. Peter would be truly impressed at the clouds she was making if he could muster the energy to take more than a passing glance at her, but Elias had begun fiddling with his fussy little cigarette holder so he pulled out his own masterpiece of a pipe. Elias' gift from their first wedding. Beautiful dark wood he spent long, solitary moments at the bow of his ship polishing to a high shine. An intricately carved mercreature, tail curling into graceful arcs along its side, the eyes of which he'd found himself...almost sad to scratch out at the first opportunity but, well. A real talking piece Elais had called it, the smug bastard. Peter was fairly certain, yes he should remember to put money on it in fact, that Elias hadn't meant for him to actually use the thing, let alone enjoy the not so subtle dig at his vocation. So of course it was his most prized possession. He'd prefilled his pipe before dropping in, knowing that sooner or later he'd need a solitary smoke and apparently this was as close as he'd get to one today. He hadn't even lit it before Elias was turning those predator's eyes on him, bland workplace smile curling the smallest amount.

"Do go on, you were saying?" He simpered. He was revelling in the dual satisfaction of so blatantly Watching his little minion and the anticipation of having Peter divulge, baring himself once more to being Known. Well, two could enjoy these little games. Peter threw an arm around Elias’s sharp shoulders, drawing him close to his own side and lightly prodding that ever so slightly upturned nose with his unlit pipe.

"My sweet turtle dove, who leads me always back to land, I will regale you with a most amusing tale that took place on our third night out of port, when dear Ricco," Of course there was no amusing tale, and god willing there never would be aboard his vessel. But Peter had opened the bag for this particular furious cat, as it were, and could almost taste the shift of the girl's fury to angry bafflement, alone on one side of the courtyard while her warden cosied up for some light work place PDA. Which had, delightfully, narrowed Elias' eyes to poisonous little slits. For all he needed to Behold, having the attention brought on himself in ways he hadn't intended, hadn't meticulously planned and plotted, seemed to bring Elias discomfort. He was the one being Seen now, watched by those girls narrowed eyes not out of fear and hate but with a growing hint of curiosity. Peter dared to nuzzle into his currently husband's hair as he continued to spout off some drivel he was making up on the spot. The girl's angry bafflement grew and oh, yes, he'd been right, the sweetest beginning twinge of loneliness that for all she hated her jailor it seemed he had a doting partner, part of a pair while yes, she was still painfully single in love, and furthermore single in this awful place, single from friendship and co-workers to care about, single at home in her tiny single flat, single as in one, one in all things, single and one as in Alone, Alone as in Lonely.

Peter breathed deeply in enjoyment, filling his lungs with the sweetness of it.

Sweeter than usual, actually.

The girl had finally sucked the final breath from her little device and blew out a last, angry, Lonely breath before storming away in a cloud of. Raspberry? Peter actually watched her departure, halting whatever it was his mouth was saying but feeling so buoyed he left his arm wrapped around his loaded gun of a husband even after she left.

"What are these young people smoking? Rather like walking into a candy store. Or just walking past one as the case may be, too many children in one. Maybe more those strange soap shops you’re so fond of," he asked.

"Technically it's vaping, most often containing a blend of nicotine and...flavourent. Some use it to stop smoking, which is what our dear Melanie tells herself she is doing when in reality her nicotine intake has increased since she switched habits. She's very aware of this fact." Elias had paused in his glaring to tilt his face away from where Peter had planted it against his shoulder, seeming to scent the air. The diffusing cloud of sugar wafted around them, and would have been a comforting reminder of The Lonely if not for the cloying sweetness of it.

"Hmm, never understood that whole flavour thing. What are you doing, huffing like a bloodhound, running further diagnostics on it in the air?" He asked in amusement, Elias’ nose still thrust in the air.

“Something like that. And don't be obtuse, you prefer the taste of a pipe over a cigarette. More importantly, I could hardly enjoy that moment with you crawling all over me. We'd decided on no displays of... _affection_ ... in my work place where it might be seen. I can hardly believe _you_ were the one to break that agreement." Elias, unsurprisingly, complained.

"You got your little enjoyment, and then I got mine, just as you predicted," Peter countered and pressed an obnoxiously wet kiss to his husband's forehead, "As if we aren't _always_ Seen here. And it was you who had decided. I never thought it would be worth drawing attention to myself but here we are, still learning things about each other. Thought you'd love that. Would have-"

"-have put money on it, yes."

"-have put money on it. And you would have lost, again." He punctuated this with another little bop to that upturned nose, still flared and analysing or whatever it was he did. Almost glowing eyes snapped back to Peter's own, but he was having too good a time to avert them in discomfort.

"I see your mood is vastly improved. Don't think I won't extract retribution from you nonetheless. Something with mirrors perhaps," and perhaps Peter would actually stick around to see it through, he was feeling magnanimous right now. "Now. Tell me something of worth from your latest voyage." Elias didn't so much remove himself from under Peter arm as one second he was tucked under it and the next he was simply not, but he did lean in close to remove the box of matches from Peter's pocket and hold the lit flame up with a quirk of his manicured brows. Peter pressed the familiar weight of the pipe to his lips and leant down, just enough to remind Elias of what small superiority he held in height, and let his husband light it. The sweetness of summer fruit and sugar was slowly choked with the smokey dark of tobacco.

He'd divulge some of his recent movements, just a few of those Elias couldn't piece together himself through other people's unfortunate interactions with him, plucked from their minds like stolen candy. He hardly took note of the fact Elias never did light his fussy little cigarette holder, watching Peter talk while still scenting the air until the heady waft of tobacco had snuffed out the final breath of sugar.

* * *

The receptionist had given him a surprisingly focused and hostile look when he'd asked after Elias. And even more alarmingly he'd garnered more than a few on his walk through the institute. Elias must have done something during Peter's latest time away to up his little minions paranoia because Peter could usually drift through this cavernous place with barely a passing glance. He pride himself on it.

Five blissful months at sea, just he, himself, and whatever husks of a crew who knew better than to try and speak with him, let alone send him accusing glances. He'd thought about doing something to clinch himself a divorce before his departure to really revel in his singularity, but Elias had a way of pinning so wonderfully when he wasn't sure when Peter would return to rekindle the spark as it were. Oh he was subtle about it, but Peter could taste those mellow tones of longing and the deeper, resonant Loneliness in their time apart. What would be the point otherwise?

The looks were beginning to spoil his buzz.

"Peter, do come in." Elias' benign little smile greeted him before he could even barge unannounced into his office, fighting to contain it's smugness but still the lingering taste of that loneliness clung on as Peter pressed an absentminded kiss to it. And paused in the doorway.

"I see you've redecorated, my beguiling little sea urchin." He commented in as unaffected tone as he was able. Which, being a Lukas, was almost entirely. 

"Oh this? A little something to spruce up the place, company policy does allow employees to decorate their spaces within reason. You do get the best out of people in a comfortable environment after all." Elias slipped back behind his large, oak desk, placing himself central to the surrounding gold gilded frames now adorning the walls.

"There's an odd number. Bad fang swee and all that." Peter said, almost smiling at his husband’s wince.

"Oh not for long my former darling. Here," he slid the familiar document across the dark wood with a flash of teeth and curling grin, "if you please. And then we have an appointment. We wouldn't want a, as you put it, cloud of bad feng shui hanging over the place, now would we?"

The court house was blessedly subdued this time of day. Or was now that Peter had been standing in it for over half an hour. Elias could certainly rush them to the front of the queue, but allowed Peter to really take in the Loneliness of those that had stuck it out to wait their turn.

The box marked 'grounds for divorce' had been filled in with 'Vulgar name calling, disclosure of sensitive information' and a recently added 'purposeful mispronunciation' because Elias was adorably meticulous like that.

"One could put money on this being the reason for all those looks today." Peter probed. 

"You always have been better than me at recognising a sure bet. My husband, whom I've loved with all my heart for so many years, leaving in the dead of night without any indication of when he'll return or why he's gone, he could be anywhere, with anyone. He never tells me what he's doing on that ship of his, he could be with someone else for all I know. No you're right Bernice, it's better I sever the ties on my own terms now, I’m sorry you had to learn these lessons from your own messy divorce but please tell me more about how you worked through that difficult event, I could really use the wisdom right now." Elias' politician smile curled into that of a satiated predator, clearly relishing the memory. Peter couldn't help but rumble a chuckle at his bastard of a soon to be ex husband.

"That's not the reason it says here," it never had in those ridiculously filled out boxes and it likely never would, too close to a truth Elias would probably rather die than seriously admit. Let Peter feed off his Loneliness during his departures, but actually admit to missing him? Peter licked his lips, imagining the day he finally heard those words aloud, the taste of them. He'd devour them, drink them from Elias' mouth, it would surely bring him eternal, empty bliss. Elias scowled ever so slightly, as if he'd heard the thought.

"Yes, well. In the end these were the far more damning offensives. Remember you've only yourself to blame, I was happy keeping our arrangement from my employees." Elias unnecessarily reminded him.

"And me trying to indulge my darling's voyeurism fetish. The fire has truly gone out in my loves lighthouse, what will guide me home now?" Peter said with a hand to his heart. Elias seemed to smile despite himself, trying to hide that curling grin as Peter laughed, watching as Elias elegantly added 'public discussion of kink'.

When the proceedings were over Peter rolled up his own copy of the divorce paper and slid it into his breast pocket, along with the ring Elias had returned to him for the time being, close to his heart. Ah, the fresh zing of a broken marriage. Elias admired his own copy, smiling to himself before carefully slipping it into a hard backed folder, to be added to his new wall display when they returned to the institute.

"Drink to celebrate our dearly departed love life? I dare say that was the quickest divorce to date, so much faster without the lawyers. I know your empty little heart enjoys the drama of that so I'll pay in thanks for sparing me this time." Peter offered, tucking his ex husband's hand into the crook of his elbow and leading them from the building.

"Just this once. And they do seem to have more practice with divorce than dissolving a civil partnership. I never enjoyed that one as much. Civil. Why must a partnership be assumed civil? Those always left an unpleasant taste. And if you can _afford_ to pay after what you so willingly signed away to me. A smoke first, I need it after watching you drain half the building." Elias replied, a pleased spring in his steps. Peter led them obligingly to a bench outside the courthouse, filling the space until the young woman formerly sat there grew uncomfortable and fled.

"As if you weren't getting a kick out of peeking in on all that misery." Peter countered. He heaved an almost content sigh while Elias hummed in non agreement, quickly lighting his pipe and savouring that first inhale. Elias absentmindedly produced his cigarette holder from an opulent case, a pre rolled cigarette inserted in the end, attention apparently far away. After a drawn out, wonderfully silent moment Peter gestured to it with his pipe. He could ask, but why break this beautiful moment of silent apart togetherness? Peter traded his pipe for Elias' cigarette, bringing it to his own lips to light it with a match. The taste of cigarettes always left something to be desired, but Peter drew in a breath and held it in his lungs for a moment, filling the space with the lack of substance, and blew it slowly into Elias' face, whose attention had returned to Peter. He chose never to examine why he'd so often call that attention back when he didn't have it. Those venomous eyes narrowed through the cloud, but he reached for the cigarette all the same. Dreadfully soft fingertips brushing ever so gently against Peters lips, lingering with the faintest hint of pressure before he removed it. Peter took back his pipe with a slow smirk, freeing himself of the searing eye contact to watch those manicured hands insert the cigarette into its holder.

For all it was the fussiest, ridiculous device, there was a special kind of torture watching Elias use the thing. Not that he seemed to get to the smoking part of it often, more commonly holding it between two fingers with an almost total lack of interest. But when he did he'd bring that thin little stick to his lips and purse them around it. Peter would put money on that being the reason he chose the damn thing. For being one of the Whitest bodies Peter had ever seen, Elias Bouchard owned some surprisingly full lips. He'd trained them into that benign, turned in, meaningless customer service smile, or thinned them with that wide curling grin he'd be unable to train any body out of. Purposefully pursing them around so small an object like he'd taken a bite of lemon should have had the same effect, but that fullness would spill over and Peter would be unfortunately drawn to them. Peter knew it was worse wrapped around anything more substantial.

He'd stay a few days, a week maybe. Start a new round of their game. Not too long. Just enough to make Elias really feel his absence when he left.

"I don't know how you get much of anything by the time it makes it down that twig of yours." He commented.

"It's often been said I know how to suck the life out of things." Elias remarked easily, smirking and holding the holder out carelessly like he only planned to actually smoke it when he had Peters attention. Probably did. Peter took a puff of his own pipe, exhaling into the air and breathing it back in while he avoided eye contact, enjoying the ashy scent and. Hm. That smell again, overly sweet and fruity. Faint but growing stronger. A lazy sweep indicated that yes, one of those vapey stores was open across the narrow street from the court house, a gaggle of uhg, chattering teens spilling out and puffing up great clouds of the stuff.

"Every time I step foot on land there's more of those things." He muttered, gesturing with his pipe.

"Teenagers?"

Peter groaned and tilted his head back, blowing out another steady stream to diffuse the sugar in the air. "Those flavoured vape things. It was bad enough your last archivist filling the institute with those menthol cigarettes."

"Ever Gertrude had her vices. Unimportant. What do you plan to do now you're so...recently unattached," Peter felt one of Elias' pointy shoes knocking against his own with a deliberate carelessness, and finally the prickling intensity of his gaze when that failed to garner Peter's attention. Peter ignored him for some long, drawn out moments, let Elias begin to think he'd be left hanging in conversation. Peter reveled in the frustrated little huff, only turning when he began to feel Elias fall into his own thoughts, giving up on an answer.

"I’m not sure yet, so I'm afraid I can't share. But for this evening I have a... diverting appointment on the cards." Peter let his free arm curl around the back of the bench. Elias gracefully lifted his cigarette stick and sucked in another of those pursed, full lipped inhales in either reward or punishment. It was often the same thing. He almost seemed to gain more enjoyment from Peter watching the movement than actually smoking the thing.

He exhaled the stream of smoke into Peter's face, lips curling and pleased once more. "Oh? A younger lover perhaps?"

"Something like that." Or older, depending how you looked at it.

"My my. And where are you taking them, somewhere suitably impressive?" Elias simpered, tapping away ash with a precise finger.

"Hm we'll have to see, I did just lose a hefty sum in a divorce you know." He curled his palm in, just barely brushing around Elias' pale nape, the increasingly silver hair tickling his skin. He felt a hand settle on his own knee, trapping him in the moment.

"These things happen. The when perhaps? I've heard it can be so _hard_ to schedule appointments these days." His ex husband asked, fingers slowly crawling up. 

"Thought I'd just turn up when the moment struck. They seem like a bit of a stick in the mud, could definitely use some surprise to spice up their life," the fingers on his thigh clenched into little daggers, "but then after, well we'll have to see where this old bear ends up." Interestingly the hand spasmed and he watched his ex husband's lips gape like a fish. He actually willingly lifted his gaze to lock eyes for a moment, the intensity of that stare suddenly excruciating as they tried to lay him bare and understand. 

"...old bear?" Elias finally asked incredulously. And Peter had almost been enjoying himself.

"I know you like to think I purposefully only retain ocean facts but I _do_ know what a bear is Elias."

"And, to get this," he half chuckled incredulously, "straight, you're actually aware that that is in fact what you are?"

"An old apex predator, hunting alone, longing for the winter to hibernate through? Ah, to be holed up in a cave, unbothered by anything or anyone for half the year. A thick layer of snow between you and the outside world, muffling all sound. Now that's the life. Does that not describe yours truly?" Peter demanded. 

Elias continued to stare at him with those penetrating eyes for a heartbeat before throwing his head back into a surprised giggle. Peter always knew when it was surprised out of him, stripped of the usual menace or infuriating smugness. No when a laugh was wrenched from those lungs it was almost devastatingly sweet. You could _almost_ forget who the man was. A surprised laugh meant something unexpected had happened, that Peter had done something unforeseen, unpredictable. Unknowable, for all the time they spent together and apart.

Laughter still spilling from his lips like sweet poison Elias disposed of his barely touched cigarette with a practiced flick, spiriting the holder into a pocket and moved as if to stand. Like it belonged to someone else Peter's arm curled further and became a shackle, for Elias or himself it was all the same, chaining them to each other.

"Well you aged bear, I concede you were right about surprise. This time. Oh I don't think so," he protested with a final bubble of laughter, slipping away as Peter tried to reel him in to kiss the almost human delight from that viper smile, "I may be fresh on the market and, as the kids say, ready to rebound, but I'm not quite that easy." He adjusted his coat and took an exaggerated breath. "In any case we should be off, some of us still have work to do and I'd really like to wrap up in a timely manner. I have an evening appointment after all, it would be...disappointing to postpone."

Peters sigh could have been disappointed or relieved, but he stood all the same, tucking his own pipe away. Sweet artificial berry still lingered in the air around them for all the gaggle of teens had disappeared. With all the attention he'd given to and had from Elias he'd needed the energy after all.

"We wouldn't want that my slippery little sea snake."

"I divorced you for using twee names like that not even an hour ago, don't make me do it again." Elias complained. 

"Was it? I was hardly paying attention. And you'd have to marry me again to do that"

"Hm, I'll consider it."

And Peter would consider not standing his ex husband up at dinner later.

* * *

He'd been returning too frequently, was the problem. Or maybe not frequently enough. Ha. Imagine.

Elias' meticulous plans must be practically running themselves to have had time to think up this particular torture.

"-such long stretches of time, and-"

Or they were bucking out from under his control and Peter was feeling the effects of his frustration.

"-'s hardly here when he _is_ -"

He was practically glowing now, and it would take a bigger fool than Peter to underestimate his ability to multitask. Peter kept his unfocused gaze on the daffodil yellow wall until it held as much pigment as cream. Not ideal odds, but, yes he would put money on the former.

"-more I can do to-"

The comforting layer of fog suffusing his brain was briefly penetrated by the hand pantomiming a moment of reaching out for his own, faltering and quickly retreating. He resettled his desperately far away gaze. That had been particularly good craftsmanship, the light had even hit the gold band around his husband's finger just so to flash in Peter's eyes.

"-ukas?"

He hadn't sailed around the Arctic in some time, had been making himself increasingly available to Elias and the institute. It would do his poor heart good to see a polar bear adrift at sea, unable to find land or even just a slither of ice to rest on, let alone the potential of food for miles. He should put a pin in that plan.

"Mr Lukas!" The voice finally blared.

The cotton wool unraveled and he winced, dragging his slowly, painfully blinking eyes to the little woman sat across from them. The white hot pinpricks of her professionally concerned attention were tearing at his defences. 

"Mr Lukas, it would be helpful for all of us for you to really share how it makes you feel to hear this. Your husband is doing a wonderful job of opening himself up here, and we want to create an environment where sharing, and emotional heavy lifting is a constant and mutual endeavour." Uhg, her voice was as warm and understanding as it was grating against his nerves.

"Yes Peter, please share," how she couldn't see that wolf's grin for what it was he didn't know, "I just want to know what you're thinking and feeling." Peter suppressed a groan at the feeling of nails picking at another layer of him. He surely didn't have long before he’d outlast Elias’ expectations.

"If you agree, it sounds as if your distance, emotional and physical, is leaving your husband lonl-" Elais cut her off with a scalpel of a "No." before she could continue or Peter draw anything from the vicarious confession, concerned little smile painted back across his face so fast it was as if it had never been gone.

"No you, ah, misunderstand. I'm not feeling...that. What I feel is concern, I would hate for the spark to extinguish after so many years. If only he'd share his thoughts and we could really understand each other." Both sets of imploring eyes trained back on Peter, begging or demanding to Know him, to dissect him.

"Doesn't feel...good...to hear my husband talk about his thoughts." He croaked out under the weight of it. The bastard flashed his teeth at the concession, pleased at even so small a kill laid at his feet.

"Go on Mr. Lukas, an excellent start. It's never easy to hear how we're having a negative effect on the ones we love, but please keep pushing through the discomfort, you’re doing well!" She praised.

"That's the reason, sure," the eyes weren't letting up, the very foundations of him shaking as he forced out, "I know what we both bring to this relationship and...I know..." He desperately sucked in a breath, "that we always find new ways to stay under each others skin."

His hand was seized in two clutching claws, gold rings tapping together as Elias caught his gaze, eyes heavy with intent and fangs bared in pleasure.

"What a breakthrough! You do such excellent work Ms. Tillinger." His husband crowed with delight. 

"Oh, well this is only the first step to-" She tried to cut in, but stronger beings than her had tried and failed. 

"This has truly been a turning point, don't you agree Peter?" He paused a second before ceasing to push his luck, "But we really must be off. Come along darling."

Peter was pulled up, staggering a moment until Elias slithered under his arm, still clutching his hand while the other moved like a band under his ribs. He tried not to register the woman's protests as they moved to leave, fluttering not far enough away in his peripheries and insisting that this was a _process_ , not a one session fix.

"Thank you again for a truly enlightening evening, and best of luck. Nasty business with the tax office, but I'm sure everything will turn out just fine as long as no one reports those pesky documents hidden in your-" Peter drifted before he could take in whatever else might have been said.

The second thing Peter registered as comforting numbness spread back over him like an old, favoured blanket was awareness of just how many Lonely little souls were tucked away in the impersonal tower blocks of flats that lined the sad scrap of green he had been settled on. Feeding him.

The first was the presence of his husband, wriggling like a pleased seal pup. He stood at an accommodating meter away, keeping those entrapping eyes turned out into the night, but Peter didn't need to see his face to know his grin would be wide and curling. He could really use a-

Fizzle of a match flair, and Elias' shoulders rose and fell in a quick little breath, blowing out smoke like he was expelling poison from a wound. He extended his hand with a flourish, Peter's lit pipe caught in his palm. Not even a brush of fingertips as Peter reached out to take back his prize and settled in to the comforting silence. Tobacco swirling in his lungs and the creeping fog.

He probed at the hairline fractures of himself while running his thumb over the familiar carvings and grooves. Wait.

"Have you-? Do you honestly carry googly eyes in your pocket?" He finally chuckled despite himself, inspecting the now mercyclops adorning his pipe. 

"Unobservant little archival staff get stickers, for moral." Elias half turned, lips pressed in his amiable smile that quickly split into a feral grin.

"And how is that working out?" He asked, prying the googly eye sticker off his pipe with a nail.

"Oh it's doing _wonders_ for mine. Watching Martin try to subtly remove them from Jon is so amusing it’s actually worth the second hand embarrassment. Speaking of things in pockets, you have a rather large collection of IKEA pencils in yours for a man who would most likely disintegrate if he stepped foot in one. And this?"

With the billowing mist insulating even the sounds of traffic, and the feeling of so many despairing lives around him, Peter found the energy to step forward and tuck his husband under his arm. Those pale hands had now produced the cigar that had been hidden away in the lining of Peter's jacket.

"Ah yes, I seem to recall James favoured that brand. I thought you might enjoy a bit of nostalgia, my sticky fingered darling." Peter had actually found it in an almost forgotten blazer. 

"Some of us know how to move forward with the times," he dropped the cigar back into Peter's pocket, then returning the packet of tobacco and suspiciously rattling box of matches with enthusiasm.

"My charming seagull, when I try to smoke later am I going to find myself under the unblinking stare of every match in this box?" Peter had to ask. He’d throw the thing into the ocean just to be safe.

"A man has to keep himself occupied while his husband recovers from less than half an hour of marriage counselling. Isn't it _fun_ finding new activities to do together?" Elias didn’t even try to obscure his smugness. Peter heaved a weary sigh.

"I suppose I should be grateful it wasn't one of those group ones."

"One day perhaps. Now, there's an exchange student with some rather interesting information about her father's business who has been struggling _horribly_ to make friends in this country leaving her flat for some air. You'll be feeling your bland self again in no time." Elias declared, leading them away. 

They stalked together into the night, until the scent of the Lonely student, alone in a new country, isolated by the language barrier and adrift with a lack of support, was like fresh blood in the water, almost strong enough to snuff out the scent of sugar and fruit she had just begun expelling into the fog.

* * *

He'd been so certain that this is what he'd wanted. Maybe he's never truly expected to achieve anything near it, but thought about it certainly. The part of him, the majority of him, that _was_ the Lonely had been craving it for years.

True they had been slowly making increasing concessions to each other. But for Elias to, not so much willingly but equally not _un_ willingly, allow Peter to play this particular game on the Tundra.

It had been an empty home, a vessel, a courier, an altar to the Lonely for so many years the metal itself reverberated with it. A man could really lose himself here. Ha. A lonely away from The Lonely. 

Elias hated the ship.

Peter didn't doubt that left to his own devices, and not... indisposed, he'd take a pipe to the generator and gleefully set the place alight within about 17 minutes. Did, in fact, have a standing bet with Simon Fairchild about it.

Peter had felt the second his ex husband had dropped deeper into the Lonely. A shiver of excitement in the majority of him but. Whatever he'd expected to feel in the rest of him. Wasn't.

The heavy, funeral shroud of his power in this place muffled _all_ connections to the outside world, left little space to feel anything but numbness. Even the Beholding struggled to See here, where Peter's power was almost at its most potent. While Elias could at times pull thoughts from him like loose teeth if he _truly_ put effort into it, here he was at the closest to power deprivation he would get. Ordinarily Elias would still fight it, chomping at the bit and pushing even a small frisson of his power out to burrow into whatever poor fool was usually passing on the docks, grounding himself in something to Know during his short visits.

Maybe he'd just wanted to Know _this_ too.

But when Peter haf felt that frenetic, reaching, demanding mind begin to slow it's scrabbling, sinking deeper into disconnected loneliness, numbness and then the stillness of apathy. Remain listless and uncaring even after Peter had let his presence be felt once more in the captain's quarters.

He’d stood for a moment of indecision.

The sound of a struck match was loud in the room he'd earlier so delightedly swathed in layers of thick, muffling fog. Lit his pipe, exhaling the thick richness of tobacco into the air, displacing just a little of the Lonely out with it. Ran a meditative finger over its carvings and grooves. Watched that upturned nose scrunch in the faintest show of disgust. Vaguely categorised that as interesting, Peter had seen the portraits and knew Jonah Magnus had smoked a pipe. Let his gaze become the weight smothering Elias.

With every smoke ring he could feel his ex husband’s consciousness slinking and then clawing its way from where it had settled so close to the Lonely, still weak but buzzing with attention and latching on to this new stimulus and information with what senses were currently at his disposal. Peter blew one last smoke ring and flicked Elias' nose. There were those sharp white fangs, bared in annoyance and delightful.

Peter hated learning things about himself.

"This is your captain speaking, there's been a change in this evening's scheduled on-board entertainment." His voice boomed through the silence. 

He hooked his fingers into the knot work he'd framed Elias' body with, heaving him over onto his front. Only then slipping the silk scarf from around his eyes, but left the cheerful little anchor print where Elias could really focus on it. Peter cupped the back of Elias' neck to make sure he didn't try and turn with one hand, the other fumbling through the bedside table.

"Now, we're only going to start once you beg." He stated.

"I though- but- beg?" Elias barely managed to slur the question, mind still mostly adrift. 

"This first one is a rousing little sea shanty called Lowlands." He answered, and then brought the penny whistle to his lips.

He'd begged Peter to stop. And then, after, he'd begged him not to.

Once the sweat had cooled and they'd caught their breath he'd unraveled Elias' limbs, allowed him to sprawl across his own chest to stay in comfortable discomforting contact. Tucked him under an arm, probing questioning eyes hidden under neck and beard.

"-And another thing. I can see that unforgivable crime of a tropical print sailor's hat on the desk, if I find out later you were wearing it while you were fucking me I'm going to pry your mind open like a cheap tin of tuna. I seem to recall hearing that one of your ex husband's demands in the divorce was that you burn that tacky-"

Elias would chatter. It seemed to ground him faster to fill the empty void with his own thoughts after they played games like this. James hadn't been like that. Then again, it had only been in recent years he and Elias had begun making such large indulgences to each other's powers, to each other. 

Peter settled a palm on the knee limp across his waist, rubbing a tiny bit of friction into the joint. Chose not to resist running that same palm along the back of the calf, applying pressure and stretching the whole leg up, pointed to Peter's own shoulder in an admittedly impressive feat of acrobatics. Elias had been shockingly flexible from the first, to such a degree there was no doubt the man had previously done yoga. Would a body retain that kind of movement after so many years? Peter would put money on the fact the vain creature had decided to keep that routine up to remain so pliable. How to get him to admit it?

"- and - Stop it, I'm too stiff for that." Elias finally paused to complain, but held himself in the stretch. 

"Already? Last time I checked you weren't so stiff anymore," manicured, taloned fingers did their best to wrench out a patch of his beard, "how sad it will be when I'm unable to keep up with my clutching little barnacle's voracious appetite." Those stiff joints did their best to extend into a kick.

"I'm going to find someone even younger to return as next time and everyone will stare and ask _unrelentingly_ and uncomfortably if you're my father. An Instagram model perhaps, someone with a huge social media following, and when you start turning up in my pictures they'll all know you're my sugar daddy-"

"Doesn't everyone already know that?"

"People of apocalyptic import are not the same as hundreds upon thousands of followers. I'll talk about and feature you so heavily you won't be able to go anywhere without being recognised, that’ll show you how much of a _‘_ barnacle’ I can be. They'll make blogs tracking your movements, trying to map our relationship. Stolen pictures of you all over the internet where anyone can feel like they know you. I'll have an overshare Sunday, encourage all my followers to send me their inane little lives and pretend I care at all about them beyond the information they provide. Oh it won't _all_ be torture for you darling, you really have missed a trick with social media. You wouldn't believe the amount of avid users who feel hollow and disconnected. Trapped giving content to a hungry audience who will never truly Know them, only Watch the shattered, curated mirror of reality they choose to reflect. The Loneliness. And _yes,_ my late godfather Elias left me his institute, I don't really know what to do with the thing but it would mean the world if you visited it, submitted any particularly interesting stories there if you're in town. No! _Patreon_. My most dedicated, and financially generous, followers can come give their statements directly to me and the head archivist here. You'll be just like one of the family if you do, I'll give you a follow back and a feature. The institute self financed. An army of Watchers, and me Watching in return. Compiling stats, stories, information." Elias’ muscles coiled with tension, a different kind of excitement thrumming through him now.

"And if these followers of yours were for some reason so desperate to dig into me wouldn't it be strange to find your 'late godfather' was married to your new...whatever I am?" He asked with morbid curiosity. 

"The drama Peter, what people really want is drama. The _speculations_. I can almost hear them." Elias said, relish obvious in his voice.

"I hardly need any more drama with you around as it is." And just in case this was more than just baffling pillow talk, even by his ex husband’s standards, Peter added, "And aren’t you meant to do more of the watching than being watched?"

Elias huffed an almost dreamy little sigh, limbs settling and still again, lips curled against Peter's pulse, "I suppose that’s true."

"There's still mileage in both our old bones." He prodded further, almost regretting it when Elias wound tight once again.

"Would you be sad to see this old body go darling? Worried I'd find myself someone else next time perhaps, finally have enough of all _this_?" Elias demanded, but didn’t Demand. 

He'd isolated himself so fully in the wake of James, as if they truly had been able to marry and Peter his despondent, grief stricken widower. The experience had been so all encompassing and satiating it had almost been a shame to ruin his approximation of heartbreak by eventually returning to Elias. Beyond the surface, any changes were so minimal in the grand scheme it was more like he'd left someone he once knew for so long they'd begun shifting into someone almost but not quite new. Hardly at all, but enough that the difference ached deliciously.

Could you feel Lonely without someone who wasn't truly gone? Peter did his best to find a way. And if the time ever came he would do the same with Elias, secret him away in whatever place he had instead of a soul to prod at like a scab he refused to let heal when Peter needed to really wallow. And this thing that was now Peter and Elias, that at times seemed like it had grown beyond either of their control or intentions, felt like it could feed the entire Lonely with its absence. He'd disappear for longer than ever before and revel in the knowledge that somewhere out there whoever Elias had become would be alone and uncertain when he'd return. _If_ he'd return this time.

"Well you haven't grown tired of me yet, darling."

"Peter, darling, I'm always tired of you."

"You say the sweetest things."

* * *

Dear Elias, Leave work in a timely manner, I will be at your flat this evening. Yours faithfully, your husband, Peter Lukas.

Sent 14:04

Omfg [brain emoji] [explosion emoji] never [thinking face emoji] I'd [eyes emoji] the day [laughing face emoji] Sure [four eggplant emojis]

Received 14:04

Dear Elias, I do not understand most of that, are you so ancient you still use hieroglyphics? Yours faithfully, your husband, Peter Lukas.

Sent 14:11

[Laughing face emoji] [flame emoji] [clapping hands emoji] The irony is [chef emoji] [kiss emoji] Yes I will be home at six

Received 14:11

Also you don't need to sign off every text I know it's you

Received 14:11

To Elias, Isn't that a frivolous use of power even for you? From your husband, Peter Lukas.

Sent 14:19

?? You're a contact in my phone, it tells me the text is from you

Received 14:19

[Stop sign emoji]

Received 14:20

Am I not a contact in your phone?

Received 14:20

Do u type my number in every time u contact me?

Received 14:20

[Shocked face emoji]

Received 14:20

DO YOU HAVE _ANY_ CONTACTS, IS THIS Y U ALWAYS ANSWER CALLS 'The phone of Peter Lukas, Peter Lukas speaking'? Unknowable my [peach emoji] [three cry laughing face emojis]

Received 14:21

Peter grimaced and decided not to reply. He told himself it was to leave Elias alone in the conversation and waiting for a reply, he'd heard that was called being a ghost and he liked the sound of that practice, but his phone continued to buzz intermittently in his pocket for another few minutes and he couldn't taste a drop of Loneliness in it, so clearly Elias was happy to entertain himself. Maybe it was for the best, if Elias was so amused with him already he'd be less likely to insert a bullet in his chest and be done with it later.

Peter had some purchases and set dressing to do.

He'd intended to make the purchase himself, had even gone into one of the many stores sprouting up around the city like weeds and started sampling flavours. Unfortunately the young person on shift had been excruciatingly helpful, buzzing around him with customer service helpful questions and a baffled interest in if he was buying for himself. Fortunately they'de been alone on shift so it hadn't been too much effort to banish them to the Lonely. He had had to retreat to the ship for a lay down though. In the end he'd sent a crew member off with instructions to find the sweetest flavours he could and report back. This far along it would be an almost unbearable experience for the man, and of course Peter would have to send him off into the Lonely as well now that he would have information on Peter. Overall, not bad for a day's work.

Peter had carefully inspected each little bottle and _yes_. Pink lemonade. That was the one.

He'd needed to figure out how to actually use the device, but before too long he was lounging on Elias' bed, puffing out great clouds of the stuff. It tasted of anticipation. For over an hour he saturated the room, awareness fuzzing out like static as he waited with half an eye on the time.

A few minutes to seven he languidly weaved his way down through the living room. The sharp click of a key in the lock announced Elias' arrival. He took a deep pull, lazily poised.

"Your texts kept my spirits soaring the entire afternoon I don't mind telling you," the sounds of coat being shed, "the archival staff were positively-"

Peter moved suddenly into Elias' space, vaguely taking note of how his husband's eyes widened, but his focus was on those full pink lips stretched around the thumb he'd caught and hooked them with, forcing them open around whatever words he’d been saying. Those sharp little teeth would probably bite. He could put money on that.

Peter leant in, and exhaled the cloyingly sweet breath into Elias' face. Oh, a loss then. The lips and teeth dropped open further instead of clenching down, a tiny hitched breath sucking in more of that candied cloud. Peter brought the vape to his own lips with exaggerated care, the weight of Elias' full attention a reward instead of flaying. He took another slow drag until his lungs were dripping with it, winding the tension dangerously tight. He dragged his thumb out to press a damp smudge against the corner of Elias' jaw, tiling it. Leant in close to exhale the words against his parted lips.

"I may not be a Watcher, but I still watch _you_ Elias."

The tension snapped.

It wasn't so much a kiss as a conduit, open and would have been sloppy if there was any space for it to be. Elias excavated furiously, like he could dig the flavour from Peter's lungs and hoard it in his own. Drinking it like a man dying of thirst. Like he was gasping his last breath. _There_ was the bite, a sharp nip to Peter's tongue. Soft fingertips burrowed into his beard, wrenching their lip apart but extracted claws staying latched in. Upturned nose flared. They both breathed heavily, inches apart.

"Well?" Elias panted. He still hadn't blinked.

Peter obligingly brought the vape back to his lips, those demanding eyes narrowed now but no less hungry. Hungrier. He'd barely finished the inhale before Elias was swallowing it from him again. Peter was almost dizzy with it, from the lack of breath, from Elias' eyes insistent every time the flavour was devoured and demanding more, from being _right._

The pattern was ceaseless as they dragged each other through the house, clawing and pawing and branding. Peter had Elias crowded against the bedroom door, or Elias had Peter caught against him. Peter's hand crept down to turn the handle, that final greedily stolen breath punched out of Elias as he was pushed, fell, staggered back into the room.

Those hungry eyes darted a quick assessment, lingering a second longer over the open doors of the wardrobe Peter had spent extra time stood at, making sure to bathe his clothing in the scent. He took another long, sweet breath as he prowled after Elias into the enveloping, saccharine haze. Knife eyes cut back to his, noose hands around his neck dragging him into another punishing kiss. An artful twist of movement and Peter was on the bed, glaring gargoyle of a husband a weight across his hips.

"If you get any smugger," a hand clasped around the wrist holding the vape, directing it back to Peter's mouth, "I'll drive this thing through something soft and vital." Peter laughed the smoke into Elias' waiting mouth in reply.

By the time they were finished with each other Peter's tongue was sugar spun and heavy, lungs aching and abused, head ringing and begging for oxygen. From the way Elias had tipped over onto his side, an overheated line crumpled against Peter, he'd bet the feeling was mutual. He heaved onto his own side, bodies facing each other, pressed a nail into his husband's puffy pink lip. Would he still chase the second hand scent in the subtle way he had for so long when it's freshest association wasn't from a life paused, but of Peter, here and now? Would the scent make him _long_ for this? Peter hoped so. 

"Shall I expect to see this on our next divorce, 'figured out this body still craves sugary vape and abused that knowledge'?" Elias swatted his hand like a particularly annoying fly with a tiny scowl, but tipped his chin so their eyes were level and locked, "Oh is it so embarrassing you couldn't even admit it there, my sweet sugar plum?" Pressed harder until he could feel the line of teeth through lip, the pained squirm, and added more sincerely than he'd intended "that's a shame."

" **_Why?_ **" Elias commanded. 

Between one breath and the next Elias’ raptor gaze was latched to his and the air grew weighty, pressing and insistent pressure chipping at the sheer rock cliff of him and finding purchase, curling and wrenching until he was choking.

Why would he have paid close enough attention to notice in the first place, why would he go to the effort, why would he care that this infuriating man would deny himself something he so clearly enjoyed, that Peter could use but also gift to him, why any of this of _them_ at all?

His mouth opened to finally gasp answers but. Those demanding lips covered his own, holding them still. Unnaturally glowing eyes covered by Elias' own hand. The two of them locked together and unmoving until the pressure of the demand eventually, excruciatingly, lifted. With a weary groan Elias tried to roll away but was prevented by the arm Peter hooked around him, keeping them pressed together, level and turned to each other.

How infuriatingly, delightfully unfortunate that they were both caught on this knife's edge together.

Elias' fingers cracked open, revealing tightly closed eyes. He huffed a tired breath but the lines around his mouth deepened as his lips curled up. Pressed them almost...sweetly, to Peter's.

"Peter, I absolutely _loathe_ you." He sighed.

"Now I'd almost believe you. But, unfortunately, I kno-...” Peter stumbled, Elias’ smile growing teeth, “am more aware of you than that."

"Well. Unfortunately I am...less content when you aren't around. To surprise me." Elias admitted. He finally opened his eyes again and they just looked at each other, for as long as it took Peter to need to turn away. The moment both charged and achingly soft.

"Sounds like you’re admitting how Lonely that makes you, my faithful sea otter."

"You've been listening and seem to Know me so well. You tell me." 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Me, weeping, this was just meant to be about my Elias vapes headcanon how did it get so long??  
> For bazemayonnaise, who had to wait over 4years for me to finish a fic for them (or at all) aren't you glad this was the one to finally break the seal. If you enjoyed this check out their version, I can finally read it now I've finished mine!  
> We both have so many dumb headcanons for these two I'm sure one or both of us will be back with more :D 
> 
> Please do not repost <3


End file.
